


Snow

by TheAsexualScorpio



Series: ASOIAF Ficlets [12]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Dry Humping, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Huddling For Warmth, Incest, Light Angst, Mild Smut, Pining, Role Reversal, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, being thorough with my tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualScorpio/pseuds/TheAsexualScorpio
Summary: Father had always said she was his blood, but Sansa had always known she would never have his name. She’d always known that she’d someday have to leave Winterfell, that there was no place in the castle for her. For all that, she had never felt more like a Snow than she did now.





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt for stark on tumblr.   
> I imagine Sansa as ~16, which is underage where I come from. This is an AU where Sansa is Ned's bastard, and his trueborn son Jon is escorting her to White Harbor to either find a husband or join the Faith

Father had always said she was his blood, but Sansa had always known she would never have his name. She’d always known that she’d someday have to leave Winterfell, that there was no place in the castle for her. For all that, she had never felt more like a Snow than she did now. 

She gasped as Jon’s hands tightened their grip on her arse and yanked her closer. The wet fabric of her smallclothes dragged over her woman’s place, sending a jolt of sensation through her. She bit his collarbone to stifle a cry and tightened her fists in his tunic. She rubbed harder and faster against the hard length pressed against her smallclothes. Suddenly, she remembered herself and released his collarbone. Instead she bit at her own clenched fist, hoping she hadn’t left a mark. The men had given Jon strange looks last time, until he’d managed to convince them that she accidentally elbowed him in her sleep.

Nobody questioned a brother and sister sharing a cabin, even if the latter was baseborn. Winter had been battering the North for close to three years now. It was so cold, the White Knife froze over each night, and the ice had to be broken up each morning to help the boat down the river. It had stretched what should have been a journey of a few days into almost a sennight already, and they were still days away from White Harbor at this rate. It would have been cruel to make Sansa, as the only woman on board, sleep alone. That had been what some of the crewmen had said when they’d cornered her the first night. They’d scattered quickly enough when Jon appeared and suggested they might find companionship in the river. He’d told her that she was welcome share his cabin, and though they’d never been close, Sansa could honestly say she loved her half-brother with all her heart in that moment.

Perhaps that was why this was so easy, she thought as Jon pulled her hand away from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. She opened easily for him, relished the slick feel of his tongue in her mouth. It was the last thing she needed, and the tension inside her broke, buffeting her with waves of some of the most intense pleasure she had ever known. Jon pulled away then, throwing his head back with a gasp. His hips kept bucking against her, rhythm barely faltering, and Sansa realized he hadn’t reached his peak yet. She wanted to see it, hungered for it the way she’d started to hunger for everything else about him. Her fists twisted in his tunic again, and she sat up a bit, careful not to throw off the furs. She bore down on him, grinding against him until his mouth fell open and his body tensed. She thought she could almost feel the warmth of his seed through the layers of fabric between them, and desire flared once more for a moment. Rather than doing anything about it, she settled on top of him once more, tucking the furs around them and waiting resignedly for when he would regain his senses.

Any moment now, he would tense up again. He’d gently but firmly move her to one side and then turn away from her to stubbornly feign sleep. She was surprised when his hands, instead of pushing her away, began to stroke her back on either side of her spine. First one, then the other trailed slowly up and down her back. His hands were warm and broad, and the calluses on his fingers occasionally caught on the fabric of her shift, like it wanted to keep his hands on her as much as she did. She wanted to relax into his touch, but her body seemed to stiffen in spite of herself. She almost wanted Jon to push her away just so they could get it done with.

“I wish I could see you naked.”

Sansa lifted her head from his shoulder and found his eyes focused on the ceiling. Shaking her head, she let out a quiet huff and settled back down. “And I you.”

In truth, she wanted even more than that. It frightened her how much she wanted, how depraved she really was. Perhaps everyone was right about bastards.

She sat up then, throwing off the furs. Even with the brazier in the corner, it was freezing in the cabin, and the air cut through her shift and stole her breath. She pulled her shift off over her head, and goose flesh erupted all over her skin. Her nipples hardened so quickly they ached.

Jon gaped at her for a moment and then shook his head. “What are you doing? It’s too cold!”

Sansa reached for the drawstring of his trousers. “We’ll keep each other warm.”


End file.
